


The Eyes Have It

by SylvanWitch



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Episode: s01e24 Oia'i'o (Trust), Episode: s02e01 Ha'i'ole (Unbreakable), First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 18:07:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28657707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SylvanWitch/pseuds/SylvanWitch
Summary: He had never seen Steve look desperate and pleading before, though, until just then, through the blue-strobe distortion on the cruiser window glass, Steve cuffed in the backseat, his eyes asking for something his mouth never had:  Help.
Relationships: Steve McGarrett/Danny "Danno" Williams
Comments: 16
Kudos: 143





	The Eyes Have It

**Author's Note:**

> This was sparked by the expression on Steve's face when he looks at Danny through the rear cop car window at the end of S1 and the desperation in Danny's voice when he promises to help Steve. Epic angst: Who could resist it? 
> 
> It fills the "heart-eyes" box on the personal prompts bingo card I generated this time last year.
> 
> And, it's my 200th archived story on AO3.

Danny had seen a lot of expressions on Steve’s face: Anger, aggression, mock-surprise, humor, fondness, and even, on rare and sacred occasions, hurt, there and then gone like lightning way out over the ocean.

He had never seen Steve look desperate and pleading before, though, until just then, through the blue-strobe distortion on the cruiser window glass, Steve cuffed in the backseat, his eyes asking for something his mouth never had: Help.

And something more, which Danny was ill-equipped to define or accept just then, his sort-of-ex-wife and his daughter waiting for him at the airport, the promised land of New Jersey disappearing further over the horizon for every second Danny stood there clench-jawed, swallowing down his terror for Steve and realizing that this wasn’t the reaction of just a good friend or a better partner.

This was the way a man reacted when he saw the flipped car’s undercarriage catch fire, and he needed to pull the person he loved from the wreckage before it exploded.

Jesus, when had his life become an action movie cliché?

But there it was: Danny loved Steve in a way he didn’t have the time or energy to process. It would have to wait until he had Steve home and whole.

Right then, he needed to keep his promise to Steve: He was going to get Steve out of this.

*****

After Steve escaped from prison, after they were reunited with him at Max’s house, after they’d tracked down the evidence that exonerated him and pulled an eleventh-hour save of Steve’s ass with the footage from the governor’s office.

After Five-O had been reinstated and Danny had finally gotten Steve to agree to have his wound treated at the hospital.

After Steve had gracelessly given in to Danny’s insistence that he sit the hell down and heal for a few minutes.

After Danny had woken up on Steve’s couch, disoriented, and then heard the sound that had woken him out of the heavy embrace of exhausted sleep.

After he’d gone into Steve’s room to find the covers damp with sweat, tangled around his legs, his cheeks wet, eyes moving wildly beneath his fragile lids.

After he’d climbed onto the bed to wrap Steve in his arms and soothe him back to slumber with nonsense words crooned over the blue flutter of his pulse at his throat.

After they’d woken together in the dim dawn light, a wash of pale gold across their feet and Steve mostly whole beside him.

After Steve’s eyes had widened in surprise to see Danny there and then warmed until Danny felt a fire ignite in his belly.

Then,

finally,

came the loving, a slow, damp, hot slide of skin, Steve’s breath broken into moans by Danny’s kiss, deep and relieved, Danny’s hands on Steve’s hips, pressing him into the bed so he could lay himself down and feel the hard planes of Steve’s body against his own, Steve’s hips pushing upward in little, desperate thrusts and his big, gun-callused hand wrapped around them both to pull them into a shouting, blinding orgasm that wrenched Danny apart and put him back together as a man who came back to himself in the spend-heavy air on top of his best friend, his partner, his lover.

Steve’s hands were huge and impossibly hot spanning Danny’s lower back as he held Danny against him despite the weight and what must be the painful pressure against his wound.

“You keep this up, we’re going to be stuck together down there, and then what?” Danny managed when he had enough breath to make words with.

“Then we die happy,” Steve rumbled, raising his head to press his mouth to the sweaty dip at the base of Danny’s throat, where he whispered, “Thank you,” and then, against his collarbone, “Thank you,” and then the ball of his shoulder, “Thank you.”

Deciding discretion was the better part of revisiting the hospital, Danny carefully climbed off Steve and stretched out on his side, propped on one elbow so he could look at Steve, surreptitiously checking his wound before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

There was a rawness in Steve’s eyes, a vulnerability in his wounded belly, open for the touching, and the tilt of his chin, as if waiting for Danny to put a hand at his throat, that wrapped a fist around his heart.

“The things I want to do to you, babe,” he murmured, tracking the way Steve’s pupils dilated and his mouth opened as if Danny’s words made him breathless. 

It was a good look on him, one that Danny planned to put there again and again.

For now, though…

“You need more rest,” he said, fingers ghosting over the edges of the bandage on Steve’s abdomen. 

“And a shower,” he added, wrinkling his nose at the tacky spooge he’d picked up with his caress.

“Later,” Steve suggested, reaching an arm around Danny to pull him down flush on the bed, head resting against Steve’s shoulder. “Sleep now.”

His words were slurred, his eyes already closing, and though the position wasn’t the best for Danny’s neck, he wouldn’t have moved for all the pizza in New Jersey.

He kissed Steve’s jaw and then let himself drift, sticky and spent, content to keep the world and its worries out of their bed for at least a little while longer.

Later, over a very late breakfast in Steve’s kitchen, Danny said, “Don’t give me heart-eyes, you aren’t getting my bacon,” and Steve offered up his goofy, little kid smile and said, “I love you,” like it was the easiest thing in the world.

It knocked the breath out of him for a long minute, until Steve’s smile turned a little brittle and Danny realized he hadn’t responded, an oversight he rectified by kissing Steve senseless and declaring his own love over and over.

If Steve used that declaration to steal Danny’s bacon, well, that must mean that all was right with their world. 


End file.
